The Right Priorities
by SherlockedSherlockian
Summary: John Watson has a bad day at work. But he doesn't turn to his girlfriend, or one of his work mates for comfort. No, he turns to a sociopathic detective. Or, sociopathic to most people...Pure and loveable fluff.
1. Break Up

Sherlock tapped his fingers on the desk, waiting patiently (or not) for Lestrade to return with the case file. His phone beeped and he hurriedly grabbed it out, glad for some distraction.

_1 New Message – John Watson_

Frowning curiously, he opened the text. According to the time, John should still be at work.

_Sherlock, could you please come down to the surgery? – JW_

Even more curious.

_Yes, of course – any specific reason? – SH_

He waited for a moment, before his phone beeped again.

_I'm not feeling well. – JW_

_John, you're in a medical clinic. – SH_

_I know. – JW_

Sherlock frowned again, this time more concerned than curious. Forgetting about the case, he jumped to his feet and strode out of the Yard.

"I don't care about your records, they are completely irrelevant. I do not find that an appointment is necessary – " "Sherlock." John smiled slightly as we walked out of his office, much to the relief of the exasperated secretary. "John." the consulting detective shot the woman a triumphant look and crossed over to him. "John, what's the matter?" "I just needed to see you. Can we go home? I've had enough of the clinic." "Sure…" he nodded, "whatever you wish."

The pair walked out of the office in silence, not conversing until they were out in the street. "I'm glad you came." The doctor smiled honestly. Sherlock smiled back, "Anytime, John. Now, do tell me what the matter is. I won't find anything silly, I assure you." He sighed as they walked out. "One of my patients may not make it. I found out earlier today and cancelled my lunch date with Sarah. She dumped me, just like that. Says I was being immature and didn't have my priorities right."

Sherlock was amused by the last sentence. _She did, did she? _he thought, but quickly snapped out of it, wrapping an arm around him comfortingly as they walked. "I'm so sorry, John." The other man shook his head, "Don't be – she may have been right." he relaxed into the reassuring touch. Sherlock made no further comment, not wanting to press the matter.


	2. Tea and Giggles

When they arrived home, John kicked off his shoes and collapsed into his armchair. Sherlock, meanwhile, had made a beeline for the kitchen. If tea couldn't help, then nothing would. A minute or so later, Sherlock returned to the lounge with the freshly made beverage.

"Thanks." John murmured, taking the mug from his hand. Sherlock shrugged, "No problems, John, and I assure you – it's only a little drugged this time." The light joke made John laugh, instantly lifting his spirits. "Good," he nodded, "as long as it's not hallucinogen."

They sat in companiable silence for a while, and Sherlock looked John over with his analytical gaze. _Smiling slightly, eyes no longer downcast, so feeling better now. Good. That was very good. _

John looked up to see Sherlock watching him, and he laughed when their eyes met, all too used to the searching, all-observing gaze. John noticed, though, that the one Sherlock used on him was almost imperceptibly different to that which he used on others, such as clients. When it was John, Sherlock seemed to convey…understanding…and perhaps even very mild concern. It made John feel happy.

Presently, Sherlock joined in John's laughter. "What?" the brunette giggled. "I take it you think I'm feeling better now?" the doctor smiled, which earned a nod from the other. "You look happier, so yes." John grinned, "I believe you're right. I feel better. Although I could always be faking it." "Why would you be faking it?" "To make you happy?" "And why would you want to make me happy?" When John replied, his tone was much more serious, "Because I like making you smile."

This surprised Sherlock, and he smirked slightly. "Oh, I – I see." "No, you don't." John stated simply, and that caused them both to burst into giggles again. John quickly downed his tea and went into the kitchen, "Alright, Sherlock, tea's well and good, but when was the last time you ate?" Sherlock put on a convincing thinking expression. "Erm…last week. Yes, when we ate at Angelo's after finishing that Kensington Gardens case."

John gave a long suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. What was he going to do with the impossible man? Slowly, he started making sandwiches for them both.


	3. Taken By Surprise

When John walked in with the sandwiches, Sherlock looked at them in horror. "I'm not going to have to…_eat_...am I?" he said the word with deep disdain. John nodded firmly. "Even if I have to force feed you, yes." A single eyebrow of Sherlock's shot up. "You would force feed me?" "If I had to." "That amuses me." "Good for you."

John handed Sherlock his plate. "And now, you will eat." Sherlock decided it would be the best opportunity to see whether or not John was joking about the force feeding. "No." he stated simply. "I will tell you one more time, Sherlock. _Eat_." John pulled his best commanding voice, but it came out as more of a softened order. This was Sherlock, after all, King of Backchat.

Sherlock's defiant eyes met John's. "I said _no_, John." "Right." John's voice turned practical as he came over and reached into Sherlock's back pocket. "John – what…" he trailed off as he saw the handcuffs in John's hand, which promptly went around his wrists. John then plopped down on Sherlock's feet, so the detective couldn't walk away without throwing John off him, which would hurt the doctor considerably.

Sherlock's eyes widened. John was being serious. "Open. Make this easy, and it'll be faster," John stated, holding the sandwich to his mouth. The detective shook his head. "You're sitting on my legs!" he complained through gritted teeth. He wasn't falling for the old trick of opening his mouth to talk as John took the opportunity to stuff it with the hovering sandwich. "You could push me off." John stated simply. Sherlock frowned. "But that would hurt you." "So?" John retorted. This time Sherlock opened his mouth to speak. "I would never hurt you, John."

The look of pure angelic honesty melted John's heart. "I…" he lowered the sandwich, blushing slightly, "That's true, I guess. Look, Sherlock, I only want what's best for you. I care about you. Please eat." Finally, Sherlock caved, opening his mouth with a twinkle of good humour in his eyes. It made John's stomach flutter.

* * *

Just a quick note to all my amazing favouriters, followers and reviewers! You are the ones who make this all worthwhile. _**Special mentions to CaskettFanGirl, WhoKilledCockRobin, You should see me with a bafta, britewing, arkwwriter25, frodo13131313, MarMoo. 12, ThePandoricaWillOpen, darkangel-silvermoon AND ALL MY OTHER FOLLOWERS AND FAVOURITERS! I love all of you! **_


	4. Just For You

With many sighs and withering looks in the duration, Sherlock Holmes finally finished the sandwich. John sighed in relief, then, with the same tactics, made him drink his full mug of tea. Now satisfied, he washed the plates and cups while Sherlock sulked in the lounge. He was not one to suffer being made to take orders well, even if he had been the one to cave in and agree.

The doctor returned to the sitting room and this time took a seat beside his flatmate and best friend, reaching for his hand. "See? It wasn't that bad," he soothed, "you don't even have a case, so you can't complain." "I did have a case – Lestrade was about to get the case file when you texted earlier today."

John felt a twinge of guilt. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise that you were – " "I never said I regretted leaving the case to pick you up, seeing as though I appear to have helped." That shut John up, and it was a minute before he replied, "No…no, I suppose you didn't." Sherlock looked at him, "Therefore there is no need to apologise, John, or to thank me. I had come to believe it is what…friends…do for each other."

John swallowed, feeling suddenly unnaturally emotional. Sherlock really did see him as a friend, then. It made him feel remarkably pleased and undeserving that Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, would leave a case to do something as trivial as pick up his flatmate…and _friend_. The ex-soldier smiled to himself.

"John." Sherlock's soft, steady voice broke through his thoughts, making him jump. "Yes, Sherlock?" "What are you thinking about?" "Uh…nothing." "John. I realise you are no genius, but thinking about nothing is a hard task even for Anderson. He usually thinks about dinner or Sally. Anyway, tell me the truth."

"I…" John floundered for something to say, "I was thinking about the Yard's Christmas Party tomorrow. We are going, right?" Sherlock sighed resignedly, "I personally have no taste for such things, but if it would amuse you, then I may as well accompany you – if at least to make sure you come home sober." John chuckled, "You would go…just for me?" The detective shrugged simply. "Yes."

* * *

**((This chapter is dedicated to You should see me with a bafta, who has really inspired and encouraged me! Thank you!))**


	5. Christmas Special: The Humor Of Smugness

It was seven pm on the twenty-fourth of December, 2012. John was dressed in a crisp white shirt, wine red tie, and matching suite. Sherlock, on the other hand, was 'working black' in a jet black suit and deep purple tie. When the latter came downstairs, smelling of expensive cologne and looking all round gorgeous, John's jaw dropped. "Sh-Sherlock?" he mumbled, blinking rapidly.  
"Yes, John?" the detective grinned, pulling on his gloves, "Can I help you with anything?"  
John swallowed nervously, "Um, no – no, not really…"  
"Excellent. Now, are you coming? We'll be late," he raised an eyebrow at him.

John composed himself, nodding quickly and hurrying over to put on his shoes.  
Sherlock bent down to whisper in his ear, "You look lovely yourself, John, but thank you for the compliment."  
The doctor felt his cheeks burn bright red but he grinned up at him all the same, "You're welcome."

They walked out to the curb together, and John raised his arm to hail a cab. The driver ignored him and sped by. Sherlock tutted and raised his hand, calling a sharp, "Taxi!" One coming around the bend immediately stopped before them. John narrowed his eyes slightly at his flatmate's smug smile. "Not funny," he muttered.  
Sherlock grinned, "No, not funny at all. Hilarious."  
John pouted, making Sherlock grin even more. The doctor looked adorable.

John settled into the cab beside Sherlock, and felt a warm hand on his. He immediately turned to Sherlock with a grin, all indignation melting away. "Yes, Sherlock?"  
The detective smiled warmly at him before starting, "You know, John, you're not as useless as you so readily think."  
The doctor smirked, "Oh, please elaborate."  
Sherlock frowned at his smirk. "I'm paying you a compliment here, and you return it with your self satisfaction?"  
"I thought you just said I readily think I'm useless!"  
It was Sherlock's turn to pout. "I did."  
John grinned, "Who's smug now?" They looked at each other, and when their eyes met, they burst into giggles.

Several minutes later, they were pulling up outside the Yard. Sherlock paid the cabbie and leapt out just before the cab came to a halt, holding the door open for John. Smiling his thanks, the doctor followed Sherlock out and into the Yard.

The sight within was truly one to behold. The offices of every single detective and constable had been turned red, green and gold. The whole place was gaudily covered in tinsel, candy canes, mistletoe, and baubles. Sherlock scoffed, "I can actually _see _which parts of the decorating Anderson has done."  
John giggled, "Give him a break, Sherlock, it's Christmas."

A couple of drinks later, John was standing in the doorway to the main dance hall, watching the others dancing with an amused expression. He looked over at Sherlock, who was on his phone in the middle of a _loveable _little Christmas call to Mycroft, and he smiled fondly, arms folded over his chest. When Sherlock hung up a minute later, he did so with a sigh of disdain. "And _that_, John, is why I don't call him," he muttered.

John laughed, relaxing against the wall with an affectionate smile. Not influenced with the alcohol, it would certainly not have been as honest in the emotions it conveyed. Sherlock walked over to stand by John. "Would you like to dance, doctor?" he asked with a grin.  
John's eyes lit up with delight, "Sherlock Holmes, I thought you would _never _ask."

* * *

_This extra long chapter is to say __**Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all my beautiful followers, reviewers, favouriters, etc**__. XD Best wishes for 2013, and a special thank you to CaskettFanGirl and my friend, Dogmemory. Love you all! 3_


	6. New Year's Day Special: Who Am I To You?

Within moments, Sherlock had John out on the dance floor, in the lead position. The doctor, with one hand on Sherlock's shoulder and the other in the brunette's, fitting perfectly, was moving to the music, wrapped in Sherlock's embrace. They moved together in perfect sync, and John couldn't remember ever feeling so happy. As the dance progressed, John found himself shifting closer to Sherlock, so that by the time the music stopped, he found his head on the taller man's shoulder and their chests pressed together.

Sherlock smiled down at the doctor, the latter of whom took an indulgent inhalation of Sherlock's scent and cologne, meeting his gaze. "Thank you for that." John murmured, as Sherlock slowly pulled back.  
"It was my pleasure, John." He kept his hand in the ex-soldier's as he led him off the dance floor.

John returned to his previous position in the doorway, and Sherlock came to stand beside him. "Sherlock?" he asked softly.  
"Yes, John?"  
"Who am I?"  
Sherlock stared at him in confusion and slight worry, "John, how much have you had to drink?"

The doctor shook his head. "No, no, I'm sober, what I meant was…who _am_ I? To _you_, Sherlock?" Sherlock smiled at the question, and thought for a moment before answering. "Firstly, of course, you're my flatmate and colleague. An ex-soldier returned from Afghanistan and a wonderful doctor who I find invaluable on cases."

John grinned, blushing slightly, "Well, there is that…"  
"Secondly," Sherlock continued, "you are my friend – my only friend – my blogger and companion who I would be truly lost without."  
John's blush deepened just as his grin widened. "Oh…yes, yes…I remember you saying that before," he nodded, averting his gaze.

Sherlock smiled, still continuing. "And thirdly, John," he said, again looking into the doctor's deep blue eyes, "You are the centre of my universe. You said once that the world revolves around the sun, and I told you that for me, the fact was irrelevant. Well, John, it _is _irrelevant – because my world revolves around you."

John's jaw dropped slightly. He didn't know what to say, and the only thing he was aware of just then was the way his heart was beating terribly out of time. Suddenly, a voice broke through their silence. "John, mate! Aren't you going to take your once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?"

The doctor frowned, turning to the DI who was halfway across the room. "Whatever do you mean, Greg?" The Scotland Yard detective was grinning like an idiot. "Boys, look up." Sherlock and John both turned their gaze upwards to see the sprig of mistletoe above their heads. John deadpanned, Sherlock just looked confused as to what the significance was, and the whole Yard turned to face them with expectant expressions.

Sherlock frowned, turning to John. "I don't understand…" he said, truly puzzled, and John didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Trust this to be the only time in the whole of history when _Sherlock Holmes did not understand_! Lestrade snickered, beginning to explain, "When two people meet under the mistletoe, Sherlock…"  
John swallowed.  
"…they're meant to kiss."

* * *

Once again, this chapter is for all my wonderful readers. You really give me the encouragement to keep writing. **This extra-long chapter is a special 2013 gift to you all, dedicated to InterestingName (who has been awesome and read all, I think, of my work) and my personal friend Sam G.**

Posting on New Year's Day? Well, I _am _a Sherlockian!

**Happy New Year Everybody!**

_Especially to all you Sherlockians across the globe... ;)_


	7. But It Doesn't Mean I Didn't Enjoy It

Sherlock looked amused and John swallowed again, before turning to the detective with a raised eyebrow, "Well?" he mumbled, "Should we?"  
"I don't see why not, John." Sherlock answered, his smile warm and reassuring. It set off butterflies in John's stomach, and he tried to ignore them. Slowly, he cupped Sherlock's face with his hands, the skin soft below him. With a quick deep breath, John leaned up on his tip-toes and pressed his lips against Sherlock's.

In that moment, the whole world shut down for John. He was completely oblivious to the cheers in the background as, to his immense surprise, he felt Sherlock's lips press gently back against his own when the detective leaned down to his blogger's level, and John found his arms moving to slip around the brunette's slender neck. Instantly, the doctor felt a hand at the base of his neck and an arm snaked around his waist pull him in closer.

John was just aware of Sherlock's thumb moving gently against the base of his neck, massaging small circles as their lips moved against each other. He gave a soft hum of approval, making him realise that his eyes had fallen closed too, but not remembering it happen.

Eventually, John felt Sherlock pull back slightly, and looked up, just in time to see Sherlock's eyes fluttering open to reveal those gorgeous blue-greys of his, tinged with emerald. Still, John made no move to remove himself from Sherlock's hold, even when he heard the cheers and clapping from the room getting louder before slowly starting to die out. Sherlock gave John a gentle squeeze and stepped back, chuckling when the shorter man made a small noise of reluctance.

"Finally, boys!" Mrs. Hudson clapped in delight, "That was a _long _time coming!" John blushed deeply, "Well, it's you guys who made us…" but he never finished the sentence, because at that second he caught sight of Sherlock's expression. The man looked terribly hurt at the fact that John sounded like it was something unpleasant he had been forced into.

"I mean," John corrected, "it wasn't like we had a choice, thanks to you guys, but it doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it…Sherlock." He added the name softly, already turned around to named man. Gently stroking his cheek with a tender finger, John leaned up, and reattached their lips together, kissing him again. He felt his eyes flutter closed for the second time, and had no doubt that he _was_ in love with Sherlock Holmes.

* * *

_Hey everyone! So sorry this was such a long time coming...maybe I just got sidetracked cooking up a new fluffy surprise for you (coming soon!) or maybe I just like leaving my readers in suspense ;) Anyway, I thought I'd just make it up to you in a BIG THANK YOU AND SHOUT OUT to all my readers, followers, favouriters and reviewers! The next chapter will be coming soon! Thanks to:_

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	8. Epilogue: That Wouldn't Be A Bad Idea

When they pulled away for the second time, John's eyes were filled with the tenderness they only ever held around Sherlock. One of his hands snaked down to the detective's chest, resting on the strong torso with a smile. "You guys should get a room or something…" Sally's voice piped up from the back corner of the hall, although it was strangely subdued.

Sherlock put it down to shock. "That wouldn't be a bad idea, actually," John quipped back instantly, eyes never leaving his flatmate's, "to be honest, I'd like that very much." He took Sherlock's hand firmly and tugged him towards the door.

"Calm down, I'm coming," Sherlock laughed, as he watched the blond pull their coats impatiently from their hooks. "Enjoy yourselves," Lestrade smirked from behind them, "and Merry Christmas!" "And to you Lestrade!" their voices came together, only just audible over the evening breeze, "Merry Christmas…and a happy New Year!"

* * *

_((Well, everybody, that's it. The end of The Right Priorities, one of my BBC Sherlock fanfics. _

**_Thanks to Violins1345, HarnGin, Kitsuki26, OverImaginative, Cabamore, je-taime93, nannily, violetlilifics, brfo1, WretchedSinner, Empoleonlover98 who reviewed, favourite or followed since the last chapter! _**

_I am so sorry this has been so long coming, but I have been busy, busy, busy…writing even more for you guys! A massive shout out to ALL MY READERS and especially my awesome friend Cherik221b, and also Akemi713, CaskettFangirl and You should see me with a bafta FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT AND LOVE THROUGHOUT THIS STORY! _

_Along this fic, I hope I have been able to name every person who has gone on this Sherlockian adventure with me, and as it draws to a close I want to thank you all. You make writing fanfiction worth it. However, do not be disheartened! My new story is already up – my special surprise just for you! Be prepared for fluff, cuddles, kisses and a very cheeky Greg Lestrade…enjoy your Johnlock!__** Xxx SherlockedSherlockian**__))_


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